The Hard T R U T H

A mother/daughter relationship is a tough one, right? I look at a lot of relationships I have with other women and I see their relationships with their mothers. It’s a half and half when it comes to a good relationship versus a bad relationship. A mother/daughter relationship can be so close that daughters can’t bear to cause their mothers to be upset when Mom has been such a source of comfort. But does that make it close or toxic?

The worst memory of my childhood and young adulthood was feeling lonely. I was unable to tell anyone about my family life because mothers were believed to be made of pure gold. In fact, I even thought that my life was quite normal. I wish I’d known back then that not all mothers are good. Some are sick and fighting their own demons. Below the surface, they don’t love themselves, and they don’t know how to love their children. Children who suffer in silence, just like me and my three siblings.

My mother is many things to me. As a child, she was the center of my world. I wanted more than anything to get her approval. I believed that somehow she would become the mother I needed if I kept believing and trying. I was vulnerable to Mom’s intermittent reinforcements for most of my adult life. As soon as she acted cordially, I would do anything for her. I believed she’d changed, only to be disappointed again and again. I’ve tried to reason with Mom and explain to her what her behavior was doing to me. But every time, she would feel wronged, react angrily, and start a fight. I began to see that she projected her own insecurities, worries, and fears on me because she doesn’t know better. To be honest, she never really grew up. That little unloved, lonely girl inside her still steers her life. She did terrible things to me, and as an adult I realized those things were abusive.  I understand that my mother is toxic. Yet, I have fond memories of her too. In some ways, the good memories made it harder to accept the truth.

When Alice was born, I was determined to be the mother to her that I never had. Still, I hoped my mother could be a part of my life and part of my child’s life. After all, she was my mother, and she was Alice’s grandmother. Although I hated what she had done to me, I still loved her.

But things just never quite worked out how I hoped they would…

“I guess I’m just a HORRIBLE mother…”
“After ALL I’ve done for you …”
“I won’t EVER give you my advice again…”
“I was JUST trying to help…”
“I guess you didn’t THINK about how I might feel…”
“I don’t know WHAT you are talking about I’m just FINE…”( door slams, rage cleaning, ices you out)

No one can guilt-trip you like your mother, am I right? The belittlement was unreal.

But I think the hard truth of how my relationship was with my mother really hit me 6 months after Alice was born. I had fought her several times to come see her grandchild, only living 15 minutes away. She came to my house ONCE and only because my sister-in-law was in town and wanted to come see me and the baby. So of course to put on a show like my mother does, she tagged along.

I fell into a severe postpartum depression and with this being my first time… well, as a mother, I had no idea what was happening to me. How could I have? I assumed my mother would be there to help me through it or at least give me some kind of advice on how to deal with it. After all, she had spent an entire month in Indiana when my sister had her first baby. But when I tried telling her how I felt unsafe and had some intrusive thoughts, I was greeted with, “Well.. I’m sorry YOU feel that way!”

There was so much anger in her voice. Her eyes were so cold. That wasn’t my mother. Or at least it wasn’t the mother I thought I needed. I left her home that day broken and defeated. That was the point in my life I knew I needed to make a decision on our relationship and it wasn’t going to be easy.

At that point I had decided to go no contact until right before Alice turned one, she had reached out. She wanted to meet up and talk, just me and her. I felt a small sliver of hope. My mom was back. I met up with her at a local coffee shop and tried reasoning with her about everything my siblings and I had brought to her attention just 6 months earlier. The conversation turned dark and deep.

The only people that know this as of now are my siblings and my husband. But I decided it was time to communicate with my mom things that my step-dad had done. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone and that myself and my siblings would get her out of this marriage that had drug her through the mud. When I was 15 years old, we were living in Erie, PA at the time, with my step-dad while my mom was away working in Pittsburgh, PA, just two hours away. I had caught my step-dad watching me take a bath and I will NEVER, ever forget the shame, embarrassment and just down right disgusting feeling I felt when I caught him.

When my mother returned home from Pittsburgh that weekend, I said nothing. I had a fear she wasn’t going to believe me or that we weren’t going to be able to get out. I was so scared. We had just moved from Indiana to Pennsylvania, leaving our hometown behind. We didn’t know anyone and my mother was rarely home. My step-dad, who I had grown to trust and love and call my dad, had betrayed me. The man who was supposed to be our protector while mom was away. The man who told us all the time we were like his kids and we didn’t use the word “step” in our titles.

BETRAYED. ME.

When I told my mother this, 13 years later, in this small coffee shop, she cried. She gasped. She acted shocked, as if she was planning to do something about it. But I will tell you, she’s good. She’s good at manipulation and making you feel some kind of way. Because nothing came of it. As a matter of fact, when I went no contact with my step-dad and tried to have just a relationship with my mother, she wouldn’t have it. I was no longer the victim, she was.

“How come you are bringing this up now!? You’re just being angry and mean because we aren’t coming to see you guys. You’re just punishing us!”

That is what my mother said to me when I brought it up again. It felt like she had completely negated my concerns and my actual wellbeing as not only her daughter, but as a human being. As if I would punish her for her husband being a predator. Like I had asked for it. Like it was my fault. That’s what hurt the most. Not only had my step-dad betrayed me, but my very own mother did, too. By siding with him. By not believing me. By switching it around and making me the bad guy.

I was 15 fucking years old. We were alone with him. We lived somewhere we didn’t know anyone. We. Were. Alone. And based off of her reaction to it all years later, I questioned if she would have actually believed me back then, too. The more this toxic, abusive behavior went on, the more I saw the real Virginia.

She would put on this fake smile and fake persona with everyone else around her. Laugh and smile and boast about this false life she has created for herself and for her kids. That makes her a dangerous woman. If she can fraud her way through that, she sure as hell can fraud her way through life. And that’s exactly what she’s done. With my step-dad, Jim Whalen, right along side her.

A very large portion of me wants to blame him. He’s a con. He’s a villain. He’s downright a horrible, toxic and disgusting person, through and through. But at some point my grown, adult mother is to blame for her own actions as well. Somewhere inside her is the lost, unloved, traumatized little girl that she was and still is, but in adult form. If I learned anything from therapy, it’s that you cannot love someone properly until you learn to love yourself. And for Virginia Whalen, that holds so true.

She has now chosen to “love” other young women as her pseudo daughters, as if my sister and I don’t exist. It hurt at first. I would fight for my own mother’s attention when I shouldn’t have had to. Whenever I was around my mother, she would purposely bring up things she had planned with Molly and Tamara, side-eyeing my to see my reaction. It’s really very sick now that I think about it. She used me as her little pawn in her own little sick game. And as a mother now, I can’t imagine EVER making my daughters feel that way. EVER.

So here’s the hard truth about all of this. My relationship with my mother is now null and void. And if you’ve ever been in this spot or are currently in this spot, here are some things I need you to know, as it won’t be easy but I promise you, it will get easier.

There’s nothing wrong with you. For decades I felt confused when Mom told me I was the one with a problem. According to her, I couldn’t do anything right, not even remember things the way they really happened. She told me I had a “lively imagination” because what I remembered had “never taken place.” And I believed her. No wonder all of my all senses were disorganized.

It’s not you with the problem, it’s your mother, and she’s unable to admit it. She gaslights you using toxic amnesia to confuse your senses and create doubt. No matter how much you tried to be the best in school, exceled in life, and be there to support her emotional needs, it was never going to change her perception of you. Don’t bother trying to impress her. The only person you need to impress is you. Be yourself.

You are good enough as you are. Do you desperately want to be loved and cherished by your mom? Do you long for her approval, like I did? Do you try your hardest, but no matter what you do, it’s never good enough? I have good and bad news. The bad news is that it probably will never change. And the good news is, you are good enough already, so stop working so hard trying to prove it to your mother. There’s no need.

Protect yourself. So when your mother suddenly becomes lovely and cheerful with you, and you feel like your life has finally turned around, remember that it hasn’t. Not for long, anyway. Don’t start immediately sharing your deepest secrets and feelings with her, because they will almost certainly be turned against you a few hours later. Enjoy the moment, but stay on guard.

Don’t try to change your mom. Will your mother ever change? Probably not, so don’t waste your life waiting for that. It’s your mother’s life and responsibility, not yours. Focus on improving your own behavior and live a joyful, fulfilling life of your own. This is the only chance that your mother might actually follow your lead.

Worry less and appreciate your life. It’s okay to be happy, no matter what your mother tells you. Life isn’t meant to be 24/7 hard work and suffering in the process, as my mother sadly believed. There’s a place for fun and joy every day. Always remember that.

Think for yourself. Growing up with difficult, critical mothers, we have trouble trusting ourselves. But trust can be learned. Remind yourself that you’re good enough the way you are—just as good (and as bad) as anyone else! Care less about what others might think or say. Love and trust yourself to make your own decisions. Don’t be afraid to be confident and appreciate your life.

Distance yourself emotionally from your mother. Distancing yourself will protect you from feeling hurt and help you to learn more about your mom. Distancing yourself helps you avoid enmeshing with your mom’s feelings and stops her from influencing yours.

Some people are lucky enough to have mature parents who know how to love their kids, and some are not. Some of us have better health, and some have more money than others. There are many things in life we can’t control or change. We have what we have, and it’s probably for a reason. After all, who would we be if we didn’t have challenges to overcome? If everything we wished for came served on a golden plate? So by definition, life is not easy or fair. And when the little girl inside me feels scared, I hug her tight and remind her not to worry so much, love.

You will be alright, and your life will be full. You will turn challenges into adventures, weaknesses into strengths, and learn to find joy even in difficult times. Take care of yourself. And above all else, break this generational cycle of toxic mother/daughter relationships. I know my girls deserve better than what I got and I will make sure they receive better.